Lost in Translation
by colour me impressed
Summary: This is why dirty-minded people shouldn't eavesdrop.


"Smallville, I want to do it."

Chloe clapped a hand over her mouth, successfully saving Clark's door from being decorated with a tasteful, latte drink. Did she just hear what she thought she heard? Oliver pulled up next to her just then, amused but confused at the shock painted thickly across her face. He hadn't heard. _Lucky him_, Chloe thought.

Swallowing the contents of her mouth, Chloe pressed an index finger to her lips as she didn't want the billionaire to reveal their presence. She edged closer to the slightly ajar door and crouched to hide herself from view (Lois' view, at least), gesturing for Oliver to do the same. He raised a brow at her, but a heated glare had him on his knees quickly, but quite reluctantly. The blond man was glad he had chosen to wear jeans today, despite the meeting he had to attend later on.

"Lois, you can't."

Chloe was a little surprised to hear that Clark's voice was so steady. Usually, even a tiny hint of innuendo had his tongue stumbling over every word he managed to choke out, especially if said innuendo came from Lois. However, she decided that focussing on the Kryptonian's unusually even tone was not worth her attention.

"And why not?" retorted her cousin.

"Because you sprained your ankle, that's why!" Clark exclaimed, and Chloe was sure conflicting emotions (mainly irritation and concern) were dashing across his face. "Maybe if you didn't trip after encouraging that serial killer to chase after you, we wouldn't be having this conversation!"

"Hey, _you_ try running in five-inch heels!" Lois said defensively. "We'll see how fast you can superspeed without falling flat on your face."

There was a brief pause. Chloe assumed a glaring match had occurred and impatiently waited for something else to happen. As she waited, the logical side of her brain told her that she should be turning away with Oliver in tow. _Now_. She should be grabbing his hand, shoving him in the driver's seat and barking orders at him to drive them to The Talon or a carnival or something. But, of course, her damned curiosity got in the way, stapling her to the ground and hammering in the last nail of her sanity's coffin. (If she ever heard her cousin and her best friend doing the horizontal mambo, her sanity would die a horridly tragic death — she loved both of them, but no. Just no.)

"Besides," she heard Lois say flippantly, "since when have I actively used my legs? I'll be using my hands. When we play, I _only_ use my hands."

Lois' words were awfully suggestive and Chloe would bet a month's worth of coffee that she was smiling lasciviously at a flushed Clark. Behind her, Oliver made a sound that did not sound too good — he had finally caught on and he was probably choking on his saliva. Chloe checked to make sure he hadn't died. Then, she gestured for him to be quiet again, just in case he decided to scream at her for dragging him into this, before returning her attention to Clark and Lois. Clark cleared his throat and Chloe could practically _hear_ him blushing.

"Uhm, Lois—" Clark cleared his throat again and, judging from the brief, shuffling sound of clothes, he shifted awkwardly, "—you use your legs all the time. You, uh, dance a lot, remember?"

"Only because you like a show, Smallville," the reporter pointed out.

Oliver stifled a snicker behind her and Chloe couldn't resist smiling at her cousin's words. Oliver would have a field day teasing Clark about this one day.

The Kent in question's words were steadier as he spoke again. "Lois, I still think you shouldn't overexert yourself."

"Oh, come on, Smallville. Please?"

"We still have to set everything up, Lois. Oliver and Chloe might show up any minute."

"They can join in."

Chloe's jaw dropped and her cup of coffee almost fell with it. As if he had just been punched in the gut, Oliver let loose a mild curse and a whooshing breath that hit the back of her neck. She did _not_ just say that.

"Well, brunch would be more fun that way..," Clark started, his tone suggesting that he was contemplating the idea. That comment was what made the situation all the more horrifying for the eavesdropping blondes.

Clark Kent — Clark "Boy Scout" Kent — was actually considering following through with an act that no sane boy scout would ever do! It seemed he wasn't as pure-minded as everyone gave him credit (and light ridicule) for.

Chloe would have lamented for longer if Clark's voice hadn't caught her attention.

"Fine."

"I knew you'd see it my way," Lois said triumphantly. "Now, let's get down and dirty, Smallville."

There were sounds of moving and a sigh of relief as someone sat down on the couch. It was during this period of relative quietness that Chloe decided she had had enough. Oliver looked like he wasn't breathing and she did not want to spend her brunch doing whatever gross things Clark and Lois planned for them to do — and she had sit in that couch many times before. She certainly didn't want all her fond memories regarding that couch to be tainted by the sounds of the Daily Planet reporters doing the naughty. Leaping from her hiding place, Chloe pushed the back door open and barged into the kitchen, coffee cup still clenched in her hand.

"Mrs Kent would _not_ be proud of you!" she yelled, not yet taking in her surroundings.

When she did, though, her eyes were not burned with the half-nakedness she was expecting.

Instead, she saw Clark handing a seated Lois a Guitar Hero controller. The duo had frozen and fixed their gazes on her when she had entered the house, both wearing similar masks of surprise and puzzlement.

"Chlo?"

"What's wrong?"

They had spoken simultaneously and Clark straightened up. Chloe just stared. She heard Oliver pad into the kitchen and felt him stop beside her. He was clearly just as confused as everyone else in the room and there was only silence for a moment or two. Then, Oliver broke it.

"So, you guys _aren't_ having sex?"


End file.
